This is how it went
by xheartxcorex
Summary: A series of moments between Ricky and Amy following the birth of John. Ricky/Amy
1. Chapter 1

_a series of moments between Amy and Ricky following the birth of John. _

THIS IS HOW IT WENT

1.

Our Son

It felt like she had been awake for nine months straight, when really she had just awoken from sleep. Her eyes opened and she groggily took in her surroundings, for a moment she felt panic well within her. The room was dim, but she could definitely see that this was not her bedroom. When she heard the tiniest snore from beside her, she understood.

'So it really happened' she thought, staring at the bundle beside her bed. She'd had the baby. Without warning a sob had escaped her throat. Clamping her mouth shut, she bit her lip – hard, to keep herself from sobbing noisily. She couldn't count how many times she had cried since finding out she was pregnant, but none of those times had felt like this.

What was she supposed to do now? She thought idly, watching the small rise and fall of his chest.  
_John_, she had named him (with help from Ashley). If she was honest, she hadn't even thought about naming the baby, she hadn't wanted to think about it. She never wanted him at all. She had seen him as a curse from the moment she found out. But, looking at him now, she felt guilt at ever looking at him that way. "I'm sorry" she whispered.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard the tell-tale signs of movement in the room. Looking up from where John lay, her eyes widened. Asleep in the chair, was the father of her baby.  
He sat there, his head leant against the back of the chair, and legs spread out ungracefully.  
Seeing Ricky, asleep in her hospital room after giving birth to their kid, was the _last_ thing she ever expected to see. Although Ricky had said numerous times to her that he would be there for the baby, she never really believed it. Oh, she believed that he wanted to, that he really did feel bad, and wanted to help out, but she never believed that he would stick it out. She had figured that he'd freak out eventually and never talk to her again – but here he was, out cold, beside their sleeping son.

Once again, her eyes grew wet with tears, an emotion she couldn't name pulsed with each beat of her heart. His face was so at peace, different than he'd ever looked. Even when he was happy, he'd never looked like this. He looked so different from the last time she had seen him sleeping.

She bit her lip unconsciously as she recalled it; it was the night that John was conceived. She'd never told anyone, never even brought it up to Ben, but while the sex itself wasn't what she had imagined, Ricky hadn't just got up and ditched her afterwards. Instead he had pulled her closer, with a relaxed arm around her shoulder, and her cheek tucked up underneath his chin. Amy recalled the smile she'd had on her face; it was, of course, _before_ the horror at what she'd done had overtaken her. No, that was for the next morning.

It had hurt _a lot, _and it definitely didn't last as long as she'd thought, but when she thought about it- it wasn't all bad. It was an odd sensation, but she found it almost pleasant being so full when he was inside her. And as he rocked into her, she found that she'd wanted it to last forever. She never told Lauren or Madison that, and she definitely hadn't told Ben that. She knew that Ben wouldn't take too well to the fact that she hadn't _hated_ sex with Ricky. They'd fallen asleep on that couch and at some stage Amy had awoken. She'd looked up at his face, and had taken in every single detail, his cheekbones, his jaw line and his lips - lips that had trailed the inside of her thigh. She shivered before shaking the thought from her mind.

But even in sleep, there was a small crease between his brow, and tension on his face. She'd watched while his face had twitched – as though dreaming of something awful. Later on, Amy would wonder to herself if he had been dreaming of nights long since passed, when a cowering little boy had been violated by a monster.

But now, as she watched him, there was an expression of….relief, as though for once, for one precious moment, he was not tormented by his past. If just for one night, he had been spared from such things, Amy was relieved. She didn't like Ricky all that much, but she hated thinking that he'd had to go through that.

Suddenly, closed lids began to open, slowly being pulled from the depths of slumber. His gaze was unfocused to begin with, as he absorbed his surroundings, before finally landing on her face.

"Hi" she whispered.

"Hi" he replied. Their eyes held, and Amy felt as though they were having their own silent conversation – conversations without words, but gestures of eyes caressing skin.  
He looked away after a moment, clearing his throat – the spell broken. "I hope it's okay that I'm here".

"It's fine".

He smiled softly, a rare sight on Ricky Underwood. There was no smirk, or sneer, just an honest to god smile. Amy found that she liked that smile on Ricky. It was the smile she'd seen when he'd held John for the first time – a moment she never thought she'd see, a moment that she hadn't thought would affect her so much.

His eyes flickered to John, "I still can't believe that he's here, you know?" he whispered.

"I know, it doesn't quite… feel real". She shook her head, "I keep feeling like, at any moment, I'm going to wake up and all of this will turn out to be a dream".

He looked to her, eyes questioning "Would you rather that?"

She bit her lip, pondering his question. Would she rather turn back time and have this never happen at all – erasing John out of existence?

She let out a small laugh, but it was filled with bitterness "No, I guess not. I mean… I didn't want him, and I know that sounds horrible, but I didn't. But, I still love him you know? And now that he's here, I can't just wish him out of existence."

He nodded, before looking back at John's sleeping form.  
"I know..." he voice was choked, laced with emotion. "I never thought I'd ever love anyone this much" he laughed, looking back to her with glassy eyes, "I don't even know his name. Did you end up naming him".

Amy nodded, "His name is John"

The corners of his lips rose the tiniest bit, before he looked back to his son "John..." he repeated, as though seeing if it fit the boy in question.

She shrugged, "I-I know it's kind of plain, but uh, I hadn't thought of names and... well Ashley suggested it, and so here we are".

"John, I like it. Our son, John Juergens".

"Underwood." Amy spoke out, earning her a look of surprise on Ricky's face.

"What?"

Biting her lip, she looked up at him under her lashes, suddenly feeling a strange kind of nervousness in the pit of her stomach. "His name, it's John Juergens-Underwood", she confirmed with a nod.

She saw a strange emotion flash in his eyes- even in the dim light; it was so clear and obvious.  
"Amy..." he started, shaking his head. "You didn't have to... I don't deserve..." he trailed off.

"Well, I just figured, he's not _just_ my son. He's your son too... "She paused, looking down at the sleeping baby. "He's _our_ son".  
When she looked up again, she expected to see Ricky looking down at John again, instead his gaze was on her, and her only it seemed. There was something in his gaze - something that looked a little like affection.

"Our son" he repeated, once again smiling softly.


	2. Chapter 2

What do I do?

Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up, SHUT THE HELL UP!

There was a constant high pitched wailing in her head. It never let up. It had only been two weeks since John was born, but Amy was pretty damn certain that she hadn't gotten any sleep at all. Every time she was on the verge of sleep - she'd hear those small little whimpers and she'd be wide awake again. Those small little whimpers almost always turned into those loud, heart wrenching cries. Anne had told her that it wasn't that she was doing anything wrong- that babies just fussed and cried sometimes, but Amy felt like a failure. A horrible mother who couldn't even stop her own child from crying for long enough to fall asleep!

She looked into the bassinet by her bed, at the squirming little pink thing that was wriggling around, face as red as a tomato. She didn't even move to pick him up. She was paralysed, sitting on the edge of her bed, like a statue. Her breathing became shallow - turning into harsh pants. Every breath she had felt like it was burning her insides - her eyes were hot with tears. She couldn't move.

She should have been rocking him in the safety of her arms, gently cooing him back to his slumber, but she couldn't. John's cries grew louder until it seemed like they were echoing through the empty house. She was alone. Anne had decided that she needed a night out and had apparently gone out to dinner with some friends. To Amy, it seemed like that was just an excuse to get away from her and the baby. She was alone and lost...and why the hell couldn't she move?

A sob ripped from her throat - followed by another and another. A dam had broken inside of her - there was no stopping it now. Wave after wave of emotion flowed through her until she was crying uncontrollably - her cries almost as loud as John's. What the hell had she been thinking? Keeping the baby... this was a mistake, She thought. A big, huge mistake. She couldn't take care of him like he deserved. He deserved so much more than Amy could ever give him.

'What do I do" she sobbed, it was barely audible through the choking noises that she was making. Her shoulders shook, her hands trembled, her eyes burned and her heart felt like it had been ripped from her chest and had been layed out on the floor for people to step on.

A bang was heard from downstairs - in the back of Amy's mind - where there was still some small sense of rationality - she recognised the sound as the opening and closing of the front door. But she still didn't move - she still couldn't think - or focus on anything but the screaming baby in front of her.

"Amy?" a voice called. "Amy, what's going on? where are you!" he called out. His voice was muffled to her ears though - like trying to hear something while you're under water.  
She heard the soft thudding as feet ran up the stairs and down the hall - and the squeaking of her door as it was thrown open. Her eyes never left John.  
"Amy?" He called again - she could hear the voice now - it was Ricky and his voice was tinged with worry - nigh on hysteria.  
"What the hell is going on?" he cried, going straight for John. Amy didn't answer - she had no voice - no words to explain her complete and utter lack of motor function.

Ricky gently picked him up, cradling him in his arms. He rocked him against his chest - attempting to soothe him. Leaning forward, he pressing a kiss to his head and began softly muttering things to him.  
"Hey, it's alright buddy" he cooed "It's alright, Mommy and Daddy are here."

The sob died in her throat at his words. She a took a shuddering breath - replaying them in her mind. Mommy and daddy are here he'd said. 'No...' she thought, 'Daddy's here John, Mommy's just sitting here watching you cry - what a great Mommy you have'.

John's cries and turned into soft whimpers. His face was still wet with tears - tears that she had failed to wipe away. It made her want to cry louder - to scream and shout and punch something.

Ricky was no longer looking at John, but at her. He was frowning, and his eyes were searching hers, desperate to find the source of this mess. He wasn't angry, just confused and a little afraid of what he saw in this usually strong girl - who now looked broken - as though at any moment a mere touch would send her crumbling to the floor in pieces.

"Amy..." he began.

"I can't do this!" Amy suddenly cried, "I can't be....a mom...to J-John.. I can't... I can't do this" she repeated, her words stilted from her cries and heavy breathing.

"Yes, you can - Amy, you've been doing great so far - " Amy laughed - it was bitter and cold and it sent Ricky into shock - he'd never heard Amy like this before. Even when she'd yelled and screamed at him and cursed his name - she'd never sounded like this - this wasn't Amy anymore.

"Great? I've been doing great? I can't even get him to stop crying. I'm a horrible mother! John hates me" she sobbed "my son hates me".

"He doesn't hate you," Ricky said softly, "He loves you, you're his mother. Babies cry - it doesn't mean you're doing anything wrong".

Amy scoffed through her tears, "You sound like my mother. Look at me Ricky. I'm a mess. I can't even take care of myself - I sure as hell can't take care of him. I couldn't even pick him up - I just sat there and watched him cry. We should have given him up - we should have found someone to adopt him - someone who can actually be a proper mother to him!.

Ricky's frown deepend, he gently placed John in his crib, before coming to kneel by Amy. She turned away quickly, not wanting to meet his gaze. It was filled with emotion and it scared her. Mostly because the emotion that was swirling around in his dark eyes was directed at her and that left all kinds of problems in their 'relationship'. Problems that she did not want to face. Things were good with Ben, and even acknowledging such emotions would put that on a dangerous path.

"Hey, I'm glad that we didn't give him away. Can you honestly say that when you look at him, you don't thank God that you didn't.".

"I can't do it" she whispered.

"You can. You have you're mom and your dad and me.." he paused, before adding "and Ben."

"Look what just happened, what would have happened if you hadn't come here Ricky?"

"You just freaked out Amy, it doesn't make you a bad mom. I get it okay."

She glared at him, "You don't get it. He doesn't cry for you. You picked him up and he stopped just like that! But me...." she whispered, "All he does is cry".

Ricky didn't answer, he didn't know what to say. What words would make her feel better? He stopped, eyes flickering to the crib, and the boy inside. John's eyes were still wide open - searching around the room for his parents - but he wasn't crying any more.

Amy wrapped her arms around her midsection - clutching at her stomach. She felt like at any moment she would throw up. Holding her stomach was the only way to keep herself from exploding. Her eyes were focused on the floor of her bedroom, and a pair of feet came into her view. A hand had reached out and lifted her chin up. The tips of his fingers were warm against her skin - the first real warmth she'd felt in awhile. Her eyes were blurry with tears but when she looked up she saw he was holding John again. He held the baby out to place him in her arms. She cringed, flinching away from him.  
"Hold him" he said.

She shook her head, trying to keep her voice from shaking "No, he'll start crying again".

He sighed in obvious frustration. Holding John tightly in one arm, he used his other hand to lift her arm up in a cradle for John. He placed him in her arms before she had a chance to stop him.

"Hold your son Amy" he said forcefully, sounding like he was on the verge of anger.

She let out a shuddering breath, looking at him. "I can't.." she whimpered.

He knelt down by her side again so that they were eye level. "Look, He's not crying now is he".

John stared up at her from her arms, eyes wide, like he was desperate to take in every contour of his mother's face. If one could define what a look of unconditional love and dependence looked like - this would be it.

Amy looked back to Ricky and opened her mouth to say something, before quickly closing it again. There was nothing to say. It was like the chaos that she had felt in her head - the noise - was gone. Now there was a calm that surrounded her - the three of them in fact.  
There was a small smile on Ricky's lips - just hidden in the corner. Perhaps he felt the calm too, Amy thought. He leaned forward with his finger, gently brushing the stray tears that had fallen down her cheeks.

Amy didn't know how long they both sat like that. At some point, Ricky had moved to sit beside her on the bed. They watched John slowly fall back to sleep with the fascination that only parents could have. Finally, once John had been placed back in his crib, Ricky turned to her, a soft smirk on his lips - it wasn't the typical Ricky Underwood smirk that Amy was used to seeing. It still held that twinkle but it was softer....it wasn't at all fake or filled with cruel intention.

"You look like crap you know that?" he whispered.

Amy rolled her eyes, "You're not helping".

He chuckled, before standing, gently caressing the top of her head. He went to make his way back to the door when Amy called out to him. "Wait, would you... stay." he raised his eyebrows at her request, clearly shocked. "John likes it when you're around, and he doesn't cry as much. Please Ricky.." Amy sighed. Ricky could tell it was killing her to ask this of him - asking him for anything was hard. "just...stay tonight. I've barely slept in two weeks".

He shrugged, "okay".

He stood there awkwardly for a few seconds as Amy burrowed her way under the covers of her bed. Her eyes started to close, when she looked back at him. He hadn't moved from his position across the room. "What are you waiting for?" She whispered - feeling the tiniest bit proud that the thought of sharing a bed with her had made Ricky so awkward.

Ricky kicked off his boots, and got in the bed. The room was filled with silence - save for their own gentle breathing and the soft wind outside.

"Ricky..." Amy started.

"mmm?"

"Thanks" she whispered.

In the darkness of Amy Juergens room - Ricky Underwood smiled.


End file.
